


From All Enemies

by Magi_Silverwolf



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Between Seasons/Series, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Self-Sacrifice, Spiritual, Ultimate Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 16:36:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7809244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magi_Silverwolf/pseuds/Magi_Silverwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I charge you, just as I am charged: Balance me, my friends. Teach me the ancient ways in the proper times. Protect me, I beg you. The world must have her Avatar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From All Enemies

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the original canon nor am I making any profit from writing this piece. All works are accredited to their original authors, performers, and producers while this piece is mine. No copyright infringement is intended. I acknowledge that all views and opinions expressed herein are merely my interpretations of the characters and situations found within the original canon and may not reflect the views and opinions of the original author(s), producer(s), and/or other people.
> 
> Warnings: This story may contain material that is not suitable for all audiences and may offend some readers.

-= LP =-

_Fire to Air to Water to Earth_

_This is the mighty cycle of the Avatars. The Avatars exist to bring balance to the elements and to lead the ever-spiraling chi of the World to greater innovations. The Avatars are the only element benders capable of bending all four elements. Once there were four Avatars, each starting at a different point in the cycle. Over the course of time, most have been destroyed. Now there is only one, and the others are lost to legend._

_The Avatar’s power is great._

_But greatness does not always mean benevolence. Just as there naturally exists creation, so too is there destruction. In the hands of the Avatar, master of all elements, destruction is a terrible and dangerous thing._

_Balance must be maintained for nature to persevere. There must be a counter point, a breaking point._

_This is why the Order of the Black Lotus exists._

**-= LP =-**

From All Enemies

**-= LP =-**

Aang sat back in his chair with a heavy sigh. Republic City was finally able to stand on its own feet, but it seemed that every single council member wanted his opinion before doing anything. This led to many long nights looking over paperwork which he would rather spend with his lovely wife, Katara. He closed his eyes to trace the image of her face in his mind. Katara had only grown lovelier in the years since the end of the Hundred Year War. Aang pushed off of his desk with a burst of air, determined to woo his wife into a reaffirmation of their love.

 

“Avatar Aang,” announced a shadowy figure from the corner of his office. Aang stilled, all thoughts Katara whirling away like leaves upon a breeze as battle instincts took over. His body twisted the positions of an air kata that ended with his palms thrust away from his chest. A mighty wind left him, seeking to disarm and restrain the person who had snuck into his personal office. His brown eyes widened when the shadowy figure merely stepped through the blast with barely a ruffle of cloth.

 

“Avatar Aang, we must speak,” the man said in such a thick accent that Aang almost couldn’t understand him. Aang drank in details. His opponent was a bald male with skin the color of dark chocolate. White tattoos traced swirls upon that dark canvas. The swirls were familiar, but Aang could not quite place them. The man wore robes similar to Aang’s own, excepting color which was pitch black. The symbols of the four nations were embroidered in white thread along the hems of the man’s robes.

 

He was an unusual sight, this midnight visitor, with his dark skin. Yet now that Aang was recovered from his surprise, he felt no fear or worry. Toph would hit him should she learn of his next action. He released his stance, relaxing his guard. The man’s dark eyes seem to shine as he bowed his head in acknowledgement.

 

“What is your name, so that I may meet you as an equal, and from where do you hail?”

 

“I am Master Lang Zhou of the Black Lotus,” the man replied with the same thickness to his words, “and I cannot tell you from where I hail.”

 

The name of his Order sounded familiar to Aang. Below the surface of his mind, his past incarnations stirred. So many voices spoke, all at once. None of them seem to agree. Even when Yangchen’s snarling swelled in prominence, the steady warmth of trust from so many of the others comforted him. In that moment of cacophony, Aang realized where he had seen the swirl pattern. It decorated the deepest and oldest sanctuaries of each of the bending nations--all of them the home at one point of the first few Avatars.  
  
“Well, Master Zhou, what does the Order of the Black Lotus want with me?”

 

“Do you remember what the Order is, Avatar Aang?”

 

The cacophony sounded again as each incarnation tried to give their opinion. Memories swirled in a whirlwind of color. Images flashed before his mind’s eye. They varied greatly. He was a young boy being taught the secrets of earthbending. Then he was a woman with the marks of an air nomad causing people’s lungs to explode. Then he was a man laughing as he painted swirls upon dark blue walls with the help of a group of black-robed monks. Just like the Order of the White Lotus, these monks appeared to be mixed from all four bending nations if their physical colorations were anything by which to go. That image faded in favor of a destroyed landscape the likes of which Ozai with his army of firebenders working under Sozin’s Comet had not even come close recreating. Throughout the pictures sounded a voice that could have been a woman’s but that Aang recognized as his own.

 

 _‘I charge you, just as I am charged,’_ the voice said to some unknown audience. _‘Balance me, my friends. Teach me the ancient ways in the proper times. Protect me, I beg you. The world must have her Avatar.’_

 

“Everything,” Aang murmured, dazed by his new knowledge. He blinked away tears of pain that was hazy with time. He felt adrift in the emotions of countless lifetimes, from Wan’s disappointment in himself for failing to balance the nations down even to Roku’s feeling of betrayal as he lay dying. For the first time ever, Aang remembered _everything_. Shakily, he sunk into his chair. He spoke with numb realization. “I created the Order…so very long ago now. I was so young then.” That much was clear. Master Zhou nodded. His bald head reflected a stray beam of moonlight. Aang forced his dry throat to swallow. “You still exist? After all this time? Do you still follow your charge?”

 

“Always, Avatar Aang,” the man answered. His words were simple, but the message was clear. If the Order was sending a Master to him, there must be something wrong. Then his internal fire awoke and he was angry.

 

“Why now? Why after all this time? Why do you come _now_ when we are finally at peace and things are going so well?”

 

“We tried to find you. Like many others, we could not. Yochi tells us only that you are safe in Her embrace.” Master Zhou held his gaze steadily upon Aang. The words were thick with that nameless accent as if he spoke a language long forgotten or rather abandoned. Though Aang had never heard the name he mentioned before, it resounded deep within him. It was the world which gave him birth and gifted him just as surely as the lion turtles had with the ability to bend. The knowledge was as clear as glass. ‘Her embrace’…that had to refer to the Avatar state. “Yochi tells when you returned. We searched again, but always missed you by hours. Then the Source of the Imbalance was defeated. You knew the Way to correct the Imbalance. You have done great things, Avatar Aang. You are true to your Mother and to Raava.”   


“Thank you for that, I guess,” Aang said. This had to be the one of the strangest conversations that he had ever had, and that was saying something as he had been present for Sokka’s drinking of cactus juice, both times. He loved Katara, but occasionally the only way to deal with her brother was to laugh. “You came all this way just to tell me this?”

 

“No, Avatar Aang. I bear a message from Yochi. All things have their cycle. We are born. We grow and learn. Then we return to Yochi and her Elements. Even the Avatar must rest and be renewed by Yochi. Too much of Yochi’s embrace will cause your body to fail. This would end the Avatar.”

 

“I don’t understand,” Aang replied carefully. The master looked solemn and serious, but said nothing in return. It gave Aang too much room to think, to analyze what he had said. Aang knew the old lessons about life and death. He had been raised with them. But he had never heard of the Avatar state having a limit. But then again, didn’t rocks that were bent over and over again eventually crumble? Katara carried water with her to bend. It would need to be refilled quite often, especially if she used it for healing. Perhaps these weren’t coincidences after all. “If you bend something too many times, it breaks. Are you saying this will happen to my body?”

 

“Yes, Avatar Aang. Yochi gives you much chi when She holds you. Your age makes you strong, but you stayed in Her arms for a long time.”

 

Fear touched him for the first time. Aang turned his gaze to his hands, unable to face Master Zhou in his panic. He feared losing his life to the forces that had controlled it from practically the beginning of it. If he died, there would be so many things that he would not see. Tenzin had just gained his tattoos. Kya had yet to master waterbending’s healing practice. Bumi had just been made captain of his own ship in the Fire Navy. Katara, oh, his lovely Katara--how could he leave her behind?

 

But Master Zhou’s warning held truth. He used the Avatar state often as their peace and progress had been hard won and was difficult to keep. He would slip into the Avatar so easily and yet, each time, it tired him more. He had thought it was just old age--after all, he was a hundred and sixty-six. But he wasn’t, was he? Not really. His time--so _long_ \--in the iceberg had held his age for a hundred years. If bending a medium too much breaks it down, then how bad a shape must his body be in? And if he died while in the Avatar state…the chain would be broken. There would be no more Avatar. The words sang in his head like a soothing lullaby against his fear.

 

_‘The world needs her Avatar.’_

Aang raised his brown eyes. His duty was clear. There was only ever one answer to be given. The Balance must be maintained, sometimes at any cost…even that of the Avatar.

 

“You understand, Avatar Aang.” The words were warm, belying the fact that the topic to which they belonged. Aang gave the tiniest of nods, while suppressing a shiver. Master Zhou did not appear to have any joy in his duty, despite Yangchen’s insistence of the Order’s murderous ways. “Do you wish to leave behind anything?”

 

He wanted to say ‘yes’ and beg for more time. He was so young. His children were so young. _Katara_ was so young. How could he leave her alone for the rest of her life? That way was tempting, oh, so very, _very_ tempting. But it would be without honor.

 

“I wish to write a brief farewell to my wife,” Aang answered, already moving to do so. It took less than five minutes to complete the letter for his words to her were simple and explained nothing. There need not be anything to explain, he knew. Master Zhou would leave no trace that Aang’s death was anything besides Aang going to sleep or perhaps a heart attack.

 

Aang watched to ink dry in silence before setting the scroll aside for Katara to find after everything was settled. It would seem like just another note of love and affection, the last of many such notes that he had given her over their years together. She would weep when she read it. Aang knew it as he knew her. But his Katara was strong as much as beautiful. He would find her again, next time. She was still young enough that she could train his next incarnation as she did him. It would not be the same, but perhaps it would give her comfort. Aang felt tears prickle his eyes at the thought of Katara in pain.

 

“I’m ready now,” Aang told Master Zhou, and tried not to acknowledge the lie. All he felt was the tiny breezes of displaced air. Then the world faded and Aang felt lighter than his body ever had. The light of the spirit world surrounded him. Despite knowing that he could not go back, Aang looked behind him to the world of the living.

 

He saw not his body lifeless and cold. No, he saw Katara asleep alone in their bed. Her still dark hair was spread out across her pillow. In her sleep, she was smiling, as if she knew he was watching.

 

“Farewell, my love,” Aang whispered. Then the spirit world closed around him. Aang was weary, more so than he remembered being. The patch of grass at his feet seemed to be calling him. He laid down upon ground. There he slept, and knew no more.

 

**-= LP =-**

_The End of Air_

**-= LP =-**


End file.
